


Countdown

by CalebCrow



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Feels, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, One Shot, Sad, idk man whyyyyy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:53:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8117194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalebCrow/pseuds/CalebCrow
Summary: Ten.Ten counts, counting down random points in Jesse's life.Warning: Feels.





	

Ten.

Ten days he stayed in the medical bay when he was seriously injured during a mission, laying unconscious in the bed and oblivious to the world around him for days with a tight bandage around his torso and prosthetic sitting by his bedside table.

“Ugh…” He lifted up his right hand to shield his eyes from the glaring light, the simple movement sending a wave of pain and nausea rocking throughout his upper body. He forced down the bile and tried to get his mind working again. A flash of brown. “… Lena—“

“JESSE’S AWAKE GUYS!”

And the headache’s back. He barely managed to move his head ever so slightly to the left, where Lena was bouncing on the balls of her feet. “You scared the heck out of us, love!” She chided, brows furrowed.

His eyes lazily drifted over to the calendar.

He let out a weak titter and let his arm drape over his eyes, the IV hanging from his wrist gently tapping against the side of his unshaven face. “It ain’t a very good way ta spend the entire week unconscious, that ah like ta admit…”

Nine.

Nine shots he took, before the buzz from the alcohol sent him crashing hard.

“H-Hey, Angela.” He leaned against the table, a heavy blush on his face and his hat askew in the most ridiculous way ever. “Are you an angel? Because your presence is as holy as Christ.”

“Mein Gott, Jesse, how drunk are you?” The blonde frowned worriedly, moving to get up.

He waved her off, head tilting up in a sluggish manner. “ ‘M good, doc!” He threw his arms into the air. “This’s Hana’s best idea!”

“They shouldn’t have brought in the alcohol.” Angela cupped the side of her own face worriedly. “You should get to bed, the hangover will be a nightmare for you.”

Reluctantly, he nodded and spun on his heels, the spurs clicking loudly as he took a few steps forward, and threw up over Reinhardt’s shoes before collapsing onto the wooden floor.

Angela face-palmed.

Eight.

Eight times he tried to work up the courage to ask Hanzo out, and he finally did on the eighth try with a nervous stutter and sweat plastering his hair to his forehead, feet shuffling on the floor.

“Ah, Hanzo…”

“Yes?”

“Are ya free later today?”

The other man paused in the midst of cleaning his bow, black eyes shooting up to meet McCree’s worry filled ones. He looked back down. Jesse’s heart fell down to his feet as heat creeped up his neck, turning his face scarlet while he tugged his hat lower in embarrassment.

“Tonight, 7. I’ll be free.”

Jesse stood there, stunned, staring stupidly at the other man, lips parted in the beginnings of a sentence he was attempting to form but didn’t seem capable of. After a few seconds of mindless gaping, he nodded with a grin. Hanzo shot back one of his rare smiles, genuine, filled with no sarcasm or spite, not a sneer, but a smile.

“Then it is a date.” He went back to cleaning his bow. Jesse grinned.

“Ya bet it is!”

Seven.

Seven hours he stayed up with Hana, Lúcio, Jamie and Genji, just to go on a Disney marathon movie. It was well past midnight, the light from the television glowing softly and illuminating their faces, eyes shining back.

Hana was subconsciously munching on a bag of chips, eyes glued to the screen as she sat on the floor between the DJ’s legs, who leaned over her shoulder and plucked food out of her bowl on occasion. Jamie was sprawled across his own chair, the ends of his hair flickering to life once in a while, and Genji just sat cross legged on the floor, back straight but relaxed.

Jesse had fallen asleep with his hat over his face and his serape draped over him sloppily, lulled into a deep slumber with the tune of ‘At last I see the light’.

Six.

Six corpses, lying around him, as he was forced to use his ultimate, blood splattering on the cobblestone floor while he shook. Peacemaker was heavy in his grip. Crimson droplets flecked over his dark boots.

It wasn’t his first kill, hell no. He’s had much worse before. But it was only when he bent over and pried the masks off of their face did he realise who they were.

Teenagers.

Teenagers, barely over the age of 16. Used by Talon, disposable chips in their grand scheme, and he had to kill them or lose his own life. He paled even more, skin clammy with sweat and blood as the implications of how far Talon would go sank into his mind.

He fell to his knees and let out a blood curling cry.

Five.

Five times he woke up to the sound of a running tap.

Each time was the same, like a clockwork routine: The lights to the bathroom would flicker on suspiciously in the middle of the night, when the rest of the world was dead asleep. He’d force himself out of bed, the familiar feeling of another body pressed close to him missing. Groggily, he’d toss on a shirt and hurry to the bathroom.

Hanzo was washing his hands, over, and over, until his skin was red and raw, and the colour only seemed to fuel his actions like a never ending loop. His hair would be untied, black locks spilling over his shoulder as he hunched over the sink, eyes wide and unfocused, as if he wasn’t really there.

Jesse let out a sigh and placed a firm hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, freezing him in place, the only sound being the steady stream of tap water. He reached over with his metal arm and shut off the tap.

Then, wordlessly, the cowboy would wrap his arms around Hanzo, and the Shimada would break down, sobbing about the blood on his hands that would _never_ be cleansed as he desperately clutched Jesse’s shirt.

Four.

Four times he stayed up late at night, gasping for air and choking on tears as he remembered the days back in Blackwatch, back in Deadlock, back when his hands were constantly stained with gunpowder and blood, the scent of ash and death clinging to him like a second skin.

“I-I can’t, ah’m so _sorry_ , I didn’t mean…” He covered his face with his hands, trying to stop the crying in vain, as his shoulders jerk and he hunched over, words turning incoherent with every broken apology that clotted up his throat.

Hanzo was there for each and every one of them to comfort him, wrapping his arms around the other’s to ground the both of them to the present as they tried to let go of the past.

Three.

Three times he called Hanzo by his actual name.

The first was during a serious mission, as the dragon samurai tipped dangerously over the edge of a building, red blossoming on his chest like a poisonous flower. He screamed in panic, the cowboy racing over, peering over the corners of the building, before blue exploded before his eyes.

The second time was when he screamed it, throat hoarse, anger bubbling in his throat and cracking his voice while they fought. Jesse’s name was choked out in a broken sob, and he left in a fit of rage, spurs clicking and steps heavy.

The third was a loving murmur, right before he confessed his love.

Two.

Two times he witnessed Hanzo’s ultimate up close and personal.

One was when Hanzo fell over the edge of a building, the very move used to save his life. The dragons flew by him, roasting the front of his shirt as he watched them swirl, taking out the opposition as easily as a hot knife through butter.

The second time was when Hanzo stood over his broken form, clearing the path to the entrance of the alleyway, tears streaming down his face as he howled out his catchphrase. The blue energy always left every nerves in his body tingling and hairs raising at the back of his neck, even as his vision dimmed.  
  
One.

One time McCree said ‘I love you’ with all of his heart, smiling up at the other man as he brought a hand up to cup his face, smearing away his tears with a shaky thumb, just before it gave its last beat, and his body went motionless in Hanzo’s trembling arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ahahAHAHAHAHA   
> I hope you liked it!
> 
> Credits:  
> Writing- Caleb Crow  
> Art - Caleb Crow  
> awesomedragontamer.tumblr.com
> 
> ~Caleb Crow


End file.
